


Dandelions

by PippinTheRenegade



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Cute, Flowers, Fluff, M/M, Modern AU, Oneshot, parnasse swears like once sue me, shortfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-10
Updated: 2016-04-10
Packaged: 2018-06-01 00:18:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6493489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PippinTheRenegade/pseuds/PippinTheRenegade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jehan always takes one day in early spring that's all for himself. This is the first time he has ever shared this "welcoming spring" day with anyone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dandelions

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to [writemeastorydaily](http://www.writemeastorydaily.tumblr.com) for the prompt

Montparnasse checked his phone again, barely aware of the people around him. The park was busy, as was to be expected on a fine April afternoon. Children laughed in the distance, and runners on the path skirted around him as he walked resolutely forward. His solid black outfit, from his peacoat to his leather boots, made him stick out like a sore thumb on this bright spring day. Not as much, however, as the man he was looking for.

He glanced up from the screen- reading the message over and over wasn't going to help in actually finding Jehan- and a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. At the base of an oak tree, just off the path, he caught sight of a bright green sleeve. That was Jehan, certainly; Montparnasse didn't need to see the rest of him to know that seafoam denim jacket anywhere. There was stillness, though, that made him uneasy, and he fought down an anxious line of thought while urgency quickened his steps.

Montparnasse snagged a low-hanging branch and swung around the trunk of the tree, only to have any trace of worry melt away. Jehan was fine, he assured himself. Jehan was perfect in all honesty. The gentle rise and fall of his chest, a book of poetry over his face that muffled his little snoring noises, the sunlight in his copper hair, that awful outfit of space tights and floral patterned shirt and that horrible jacket... okay, maybe "perfect" was a stretch, but close. A pair of headphones snaked up from under Jehan's side and disappeared beneath the book, and he had a small basket of assorted flowers tucked close to his side. He mumbled something in his sleep.

"You texted me fifteen minutes ago," Montparnasse muttered, running the sole of his boot over the grass beside Jehan before dubbing is clean enough to sit on. He knelt and took Jehan's hand in his own, gently pressing his lips against the thin fingers. His other hand reached for the book, ever-so-slowly raising the shield away from the poet's face. "Time to get up, mon amour," he purred, craning in closer as Jehan stirred to wakefulness.

Jehan blinked away the sleep from his eyes, and a wide smile graced his freckled face when he recognized the man peering up at him. "Hello, handsome crow," he chimed, pushing up to lean on his elbows before sitting up completely. The poetry book fell into his lap, and he tugged out the earbuds and dropped those as well. He gave Montparnasse just enough time to straighten up before he leaned into the other man's chest with a contented sigh.

"And a good morning to you, too, sleepy little finch," Montparnasse said, winding a strand of Jehan's ginger hair around his finger. "Flower-picking is an exhausting past time, I take it?"

Jehan crossed his arms over his chest, though he didn't move to get up. "I wasn't asleep."

"Your snoring says otherwise." Montparnasse chuckled and failed to notice Jehan raising a hand to his collarbone. A thumb pressed against the bruise that had bloomed against the bone since their last night together, and 'Parnasse gave a yelp of pain and surprise. "Shit! Okay, fine, sorry! Devilish little flower child, aren't you?"

Jehan shied away. That had been bold, perhaps a bit more so than he had intended. "You enjoy it, though," he replied, mentally cursing that his uneasiness made the words sound more like a question. "I'll make it up to you later."

"Both of those things are true," Montparnasse said with a shrug. He did enjoy Jehan's wilder affections; the necklace of bruises and bite marks that ringed his collar and settled on his shoulders proved that much. He used it as an excuse to break out the high-collared coats and a few of his favorite scarves as well. To his benefit all around. "You haven't told me why you wanted to meet out here. Your text was the epitome of vague, I'll have you know."

"Oh, right!" Jehan sat up and grabbed for the flower basket. He spilled the book and headphones into the grass between them to set the basket on his lap. It overflowed with bundles of yellow and white and purple- snowbells and small hyacinths, clover flowers and bloodroot and a few others Montparnasse could not name offhand. Some of the flowers had been saved from the lawnmower while others he must have pilfered from flowerbeds around the park.

Jehan lifted a daffodil and tucked it behind his ear. "I come out here every year once the flowers bloom enough for it," he said, gently shifting the blooms in the basket. "I read and enjoy the sun and make flower crowns for everyone at the meeting tonight. It's just my way of welcoming spring back, I suppose."

Montparnasse watched his hands, puzzled. "And you asked me to come why?" This all sounded like a solitary sort of activity.

"I thought you might like to help." Jehan's eyebrows arched high as he found what he was searching for, a string of dandelions he had tied together earlier. "Plus I made you one, or I started on one, anyway." He fished out another flower and looped it to the end of the chain.

Montparnasse stared at the dandelions with the same scrutinizing eye he always gave Jehan's outfits, his lips pressed into a thin line of concern. "Those are weeds," he said at last, his voice flat and brow furrowed.

Jehan laughed- 'Parnasse knew nothing of flowers. "To you maybe," he chided, threading one of the spare flowers through the buttonhole of "Parnasse's coat, "but they mean a bit more. Happiness, commitment, faithfulness, tenacity, beauty in unlikely places." Those last two were his own additions, he had to admit, but he liked them all the same. His fingers wove the stems into practiced knots as he spoke until he held a finished ring of yellow blooms in his hands. He lifted the crown high above his head and nestled it in Montparnasse's dark curls with a smile. "And they look like suns in your hair."

"Ever the poet." Montparnasse broke into a crooked smile, and he leaned back against the tree in satisfaction. "I'm glad you think so highly of me."

"What do you mean?"

"All of that. I don't often hear people say I inspire anything close to happiness or faithfulness." He plucked the poetry book off the ground, brushed some dirt from its pages, and started to flip through the verses. The margins of poems Jehan obviously loved were filled up with notes and doodles- flowers, insects, birds, whatever had caught his eye in the moment- some of which had nothing to do with the poem on the page. "Beauty, though. That one's familiar."

Jehan poked him in the ribs with his elbow. "Better be, Narcissus." He settled a ring of clover flowers in his own hair before starting on the hyacinths. The purple would be wonderful for Enjolras, he figured. "Are you going to help me with these, or are you just going to let me work alone here, basking in your glory?"

Montparnasse lifted the book slightly. "I am helping," he said with the most innocent expression he could muster. "Wasn't reading on that list of things you were going to do? I'll cover that while you make your crowns. My fingers aren't delicate enough for that sort of thing."

"You're a burglar."

"Fair point." He turned the page again and nearly dropped a pressed flower out of the book in the process. "Doesn't change the fact that I don't know the knots and would probably end up breaking too many stems for you to make all you want. I'm content to watch the master at work, though."

Jehan made a huffing noise and turned to lean his back against Montparnasse's shoulder. "Stubborn crow," he muttered, snuggling down until he got comfortable enough.

Montparnasse rolled his shoulder enough to nudge him. "Silly finch."

**Author's Note:**

> \- A gift of dandelions means happiness and a commitment to total faithfulness. They also symbolize survival, healing, intelligence, wish-fulfillment, and the sun itself.  
> \- By "finch," Montparnasse specifically means a [gouldian finch](http://www.ladygouldianfinch.com/img-features/feature_godsfinch1.jpg) because look at these little guys. They're super funny to watch and also share Jehan's fashion sense.  
> \- Crows are wonderful, honorable, intelligent animals. Loyal to a fault. And they have a bad reputation.
> 
> Leave your comments and kudos here, or pop on over to [my Tumblr](http://www.theblazeofmemory.tumblr.com) if you want to chat or make a request or something. I don't bite, I promise!


End file.
